


Once Again, After a Thousand Years

by hinamatsuri



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, mild violence (stabbing), short mentions of self harm, spoilers for danmaca, using ending 2 (where libel dies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinamatsuri/pseuds/hinamatsuri
Summary: A thousand years pass, deprived of love and affection from so long ago.Kabane had no need to reprimand his relationships with Kuon, for he had hurt him so much.However, even when they have so many years ahead of them, there is always a time when love must reunite.
Relationships: Izumi Iori/Nanase Riku, Kabane/Kuon (IDOLiSH7)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Once Again, After a Thousand Years

The radio buzzed in the main room, a tuft of maroon hair could be seen as it moved closer towards the device, accompanied by the sounds of voices, one that was familiar to Kabane’s ear, while the other was new, a voice he had recently heard of from three out of a thousand years.

Kabane leaned back against the marble counter in their kitchen, arms crossed as Konoe conversed with Arme in content through the communication device about, yet, another successful infiltration.

The war was hardly dying down, despite the rubble that remained across the city. Poverty and death were still at their peak, and with the scalding heat of July, it only brought more hardships.

It would be best if the Underground trio could provide for every civilian, using the advantage of their escape from death, but immortality never granted any heroic side-effects. As if aiding the Rebellion unit wasn’t just as troublesome.

Kabane heard the chuckles die down, along with shuffling footsteps making their way towards the pair. He sees Konoe perk up, greeting the third person back from his lengthy afternoon nap.

The former king pulled his hood over, averting his eyes to crane his head behind his shoulder from the third person, the same way he has done for centuries.

“Kabane, good evening.”

His greeting made him clutch his hood tightly with a shaking fist, not taking his eyes off of the countertop behind him.

He had to admit, making progress with his gratitude towards Kuon was most certainly at the top of his list, but at what cost?

Decades ago, when he told himself the very same thing, all Kabane saw in his eyes was a kitchen knife stabbed cleanly at Kuon’s heart. Blood spurted, quick to gush out, drop by drop landing on Kabane’s sheet white knuckles. The dull, lifeless eyes on the redhead just seconds before they filled with colour again as his chest closed. With another stab made, another wound healed.

How many times did Kabane jab that knife into Kuon? How much did he use him as if he was a doll, ready to be ripped apart? Kuon was nothing but a doll struck by grief in that moment, captivated by a curse of thousand years and more, and Kabane still could not find joy in throwing him in the mud, as if he were an abandoned child.

What had lasted for almost thirty minutes was never spoken of again, as Konoe ripped the navy-blue haired man away from the limp tenshi.

Kabane was never one to resort to violence against a loved one. However, such adrenaline and rage surged through his blood in that moment, what else would he care to do?

He never wanted to lay a finger on his precious tenshi ever again. The thought of his uncontrollable rage only made his body shake more violently.

It was absurd to Kabane, to think that he and Kuon swore to get married a month after they met. It was pathetic, and almost laughable. But what could he say? They were nothing but a dumb kid and a king so immersed in love, so blind to the real world when they could only view each other, such childish behaviour was to be expected.

Kabane excused himself from the kitchen, walking towards his room, away from the chattering Konoe and Kuon. He sat on his bed, covered in navy blue bed sheets, while silk, teal curtains were draped over his bed.

He stared at the journal placed on his nightstand, one that had not been written in since centuries ago.

Kabane caressed the olive green cover shortly before opening it, a daily habit of his most especially in the evenings.

The contents were undoubtedly cheesy, Kabane couldn’t help but cringe at his and Kuon’s closeness in the past. Pages filled with diary-like entries, with two distinctive sets of handwriting, and occasionally, pressed-on flowers or four leaf clovers were present.

The entries progressively got darker, as Underground civilians lost their lives, one by one, leaving the three remaining immortals alone, scribbles of anxiety, regret, and depression were noticeable.

Nine hundred years later, only several blank pages remain.

After nine hundred years, regret has never been doubted.

Kuon never learned of the whereabouts of the journal, nor did he attain any care in the world for it. After all, just remembering something so valuable would allow him to be controlled by grief even more.

“Lord Kabane, do you have a moment?”

Kabane looked up towards the source of the sound, a wooden door right in front of him.

“If you think of it as important, then please make it quick, Konoe.”

He immediately tucked the journal away, as the door creaked open shortly after, revealing a man of similar stature to that of Kabane. Dishevelled maroon hair fluffier than ever, and a sheepish grin on his pale face.

“What sort of face are you making? Are you certain this is an important matter?” Kabane sighed in annoyance.

“Well, you consider Lord Kuon to be important, no?” Konoe explained.

The ex-king froze, just hearing the name was a taboo for him.

He clenched his fists, disabling himself to incite any violence or rage.

Konoe uninvitingly took a seat next to Kabane, an understanding smile on his face.

“Listen, Lord Kabane, I appreciate your progress with Lord Kuon and-“

“What progress?” Kabane interrupted. “I don’t feel as if this is an important discussion anymore, refrain from speaking his name.”

Konoe flinched back, but he persisted. “Lord Kabane, as much as I respect you, I’ve also taken care of both of you for centuries. No offence, but I’m the bigger person now.”

Kabane pulled his hood in closer, staring in the opposite direction.

“So listen to me.” Konoe continued, “If you want to live a better, immortal life.”

“How much ‘better’ can it get, Konoe? Surely, everyone on the Ground is happily fulfilling their duties, but we are nothing except walking corpses.”

“You’re not king anymore, Lord Kabane, take my advice on this for once, and I will leave you alone as long as you wish.”

Kabane fell silent, unable to protest any further. He sighed heavily, pulling off the hood that hid his sorrowful expression.

Konoe then smiled, “About Lord Kuon, he told me to give you something he found.”

The farmer pulled out a looped string of jade, sapphire, and ruby beads, all with a silver key connected in the middle.

“Lord Kuon told me this was the necklace you gave him several years after breaking the curse.” Konoe then pouted, “I’m just offended that I never knew about it!”

Kabane’s expression grew less tense, as he hesitantly, but slowly took the necklace.

“He took it off and put it away, when you told him you regret breaking the curse. Somehow, he found it again, and thought it would be the perfect time to reintroduce it to you.” Konoe explained.

The former king did not stop frowning, as he examined the necklace, slipping his fingers through each bead, finally stroking the silver key with their names engraved on both sides.

Konoe gleefully observed, continuing to speak on behalf of his friends. “Lord Kabane, you still love Lord Kuon, don’t you? You love him, and you knew the best decision was to distance yourself from him, for the sake of each other’s happiness.”

Kabane didn’t respond.

“You say you’ve all the time left in the world, but even we can’t predict the future. If there was ever a day where our curse is gone, when our bodies finally accept death, and you still haven’t spoken a word, I know your grief and regret will amplify.”

Neither exchanged a word for another minute, until Kabane shoved the necklace into his pocket.

“Where is Kuon right now?” Kabane asked, eyes still averted from Konoe, to which the latter gleamed of delight as he answered.

“He went up to the Ground to accompany the Rebellion unit, Arme was adamant to visit the graveyard with everyone. He should be back soon to take his nightly stroll across town.”

Kabane took note of Konoe’s statement, finally turning back to the latter to nod at him with a reassuring smile, a smile he had given so often when his heroism erupted.

Konoe smiled back, excusing himself out of Kabane’s room to go tend to the crops for the night. Heavy rain was expected, and the farmer, determined to keep the crops healthy, dashed out in less than a second.

The venerable man chuckled slightly, concealing his lips with the back of his hand.

His other hand still remained clutching the necklace in his pocket. For some reason, it felt sharper and sharper, as Kabane clenched the jewelry tight, sweat dampening half of the loop.

He stared at the ceiling, reminiscing back to hundreds of years ago.

In the same position, Kabane watched the night sky reflecting on the Underground town. A weight pressed against his left shoulder, hand intertwined with another’s, with a smile as endearing and soft, as the boy next to him shared his knowledge on stars that he learnt back in the church.

A heroic king and a young boy, proclaimed as a tenshi; it was an absurd combination, much more absurd in terms of love.

But what could Kabane do? He couldn’t control his feelings, not even to this day.

The way he swept a timid and vulnerable Kuon off his feet, carrying him across debris, swiftly dodging enemies, and protecting the boy with his whole body as a shield, it all brought warmth in his heart.

He wanted to dedicate his life to protecting this boy, to making sure he sees the morning sky and the hopping rabbits, to the chirping birds and the vast foliage. He was undeniably in love, and Kuon was able to say the same.

“I love you”s exchanged more frequently, hand holding became soft, light kisses, and kisses turned into, well, much more of what lovers do.

Kabane had often asked himself if he missed such times. His answers, however, never seemed to be black or white, much to his protests. He said yes, but he said no. He wanted to marry Kuon, but he would never want to get married.

The navy-blue haired man never spoke about it so much, but he had gotten to the point of harming himself every time he felt regret for loving Kuon. A cut there, a stab here, why should that matter? The wound always heals, clean with no scars.

Such an evil act against himself was not ideal, but Kabane was a persistent hero, and his persistency told him to never let his relationship with Kuon go.

He really, really loved Kuon. The last thing he wants is to hurt him, the last thing he needs is to lose him.

Minutes of reminiscing had passed, and Kabane made his decision to go outside, to the empty, ghostly pathways and streets of the lonely city.

There had been a balcony Kabane would often visit. It belonged to an abandoned building after its owner died decades ago. The trio refurbished the home into an experimental area, one where they could test out new technological inventions of their own.

That balcony allowed a clear view of the whole area, and even a visible, multicoloured sunset every now and then.

Kabane grasped onto the rails, looking out at the vast, empty city. Dark windows failed to be illuminated by any living human, empty streets gathered soil and gravel from recurring winds, and farm plots, covered with weeds, yet to be removed and repaired by Konoe.

He took in a long, deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm his nerves, though that hadn’t changed the way his fists were clenched so tightly to the metal rail, it would leave a visible red mark within his palms.

It wasn’t as if Kabane was nervous, to say the least, but rather, he only had fear to feel, fear from hurting Kuon once again; fear that a knife will find its place in the tenshi’s heart once more. Kabane’s breath shook at the image from back then, a helpless, lifeless Kuon in front of him, silently pleading for help as the other man only raged more.

As he heard footsteps approach closer from behind, Kabane sucked in his breath. Delicate and light, much different to the heavy brushing of Konoe, surely enough, Kuon was near.

“Hello again, Kabane.”

Such soft spoken words could only belong to Kuon, coming from behind Kabane. The latter slowly craned his neck to face the redhead, who smiled ever so faintly with eyes as dull as ever.

Kabane did not respond, as Kuon kept talking.

“Both of us alone on the balcony again, hm? How long has it been since we’ve done this before...?”

No response, and Kuon’s monologue continued.

“Would you like me to stand here? Shall I move closer to you?”

Not a single word, a long pause of silence, and yet, Kuon continued.

“Kabane, do what you want.”

Those words had finally cut through.

“Do what I want?” Kabane repeated.

Kuon nodded, “Wasn’t I a doll to you back then? Take your anger out on me.”

Ah, that incident again.

“I want you to do whatever you want. You saved me after all, so I’ll save you once again.”

This time, Kabane fully turned his body to the other figure. Kuon grasped his right arm, an ongoing habit for who knows how long.

“A doll like you is not worth ripping apart, rather, something to cherish.” Kabane sighed.

Kuon firmly looked up, gazing at Kabane’s navy blue eyes.

“If I wished to resort to violence, I would have done so much long ago. It’s been decades since that incident.”

Kuon hung his head low. “Of course, it was clear as day to remember.”

He then slowly moved closer to Kabane, too dangerously close to violence. Yet, they were standing just inches apart.

“Kabane, I’m glad you want to protect me. But I insist, do what you want with me-“

Just then, all Kuon could process was the firm, warm grip around his waist. Two arms grasped him tightly, an embrace that felt of passion and intense emotion, one that he couldn’t describe easily.

Meanwhile, Kabane, with a warm body brought close to him, dropped all of his weight onto the redhead, prudent to hide any sobs that he most definitely did not need to come out.

With a frail voice, Kuon asked, “Kabane... are you alright?”

Kabane did not reply.

Instead, his breath and body began to shake, trying his best to suppress the tears that desperately wanted to spill. Or maybe, it was his intent of harming Kuon again. He didn’t know, but Kabane felt helpless, with no desire nor energy to attempt any sort of moves.

Just when he gained the stability to respond, he felt a pair of arms gently wrap around his shoulders, and humming was heard from the boy in front of him.

A tune that brought Kabane back, centuries and centuries ago.

A tune that Kuon knew from the church, one that he would sing or hum to Kabane to put him at ease, or help him fall asleep.

He felt a hand brush through his soft hair, the same sensation from long ago, where the older man would lay on his past lover’s lap, smiling as his eyes were shut, basking in Kuon’s beautiful and charming voice, something belonging to the heavens.

Kabane felt his head spin, blurring his vision as he grew dizzy. Grasping onto Kuon’s clothes just a bit tighter, he began to drag them both down to the floor of the balcony.

However, Kuon didn’t stop humming, as he gently swayed back and forth ever so slightly, calming Kabane down as if he was a newborn.

Kabane was unsure how many minutes had passed, he was even unsure if any hours passed, but time felt too short when Kuon removed himself from the other, looking right into his eyes, navy blue and glistening through welled-up tears.

The redhead’s smile, warm with reassurance, made Kabane’s heart beat faster, almost to the point where it was painful.

With the older one’s mouth agape, Kuon chuckled slightly, “Well, I would be lying if I said I never expected our reunion would be like this.”

Not another word from Kabane.

“Kabane, I love you.”

Instead, a loss of breath.

Those three words, how long has it been since he heard them? How long has it been since they were directed at him?

It was almost enough to make Kabane choke on his tears, to feel the need to aggressively and passionately kiss the redhead, to embrace him and never let go with all his might, with every ounce of strength he had.

Just as Kuon opened his mouth to speak once again, Kabane intervened, breathless, “Kuon... we’ve had so much time, and yet...”

“And yet, the earlier the better, right?” Kuon completed.

Kabane nodded as he sighed, “You’re incredibly reckless, don’t you know that?”

“Of course, but you’re not one to talk, Kabane!”

The latter drew back in disgust. “Excuse me?”

Kuon then laughed.

A proper laugh.

A laugh so bright, one that propagates a cluster of love, warmth, and happiness.

Kuon hadn’t laughed in such a childlike manner for hundreds of years.

“You were at death’s door so many times just for me, you delved into so many attacks for me, I think you’re the reckless one here!” He giggled.

Kabane grumbled in annoyance, quite possibly thinking twice about regretting his feelings with Kuon.

But in the end, he didn’t need more regret.

Instead, all he needed was to cherish and protect his precious tenshi.

Without a warning, Kabane’s lips found its way to Kuon’s, an arm locked tightly around the latter’s waist while a hand on his head, he strengthened the kiss as if it were their last.

Kuon shortly returned the favour, leaning in ever so slightly to grasp Kabane’s shoulders and sink his weight in the latter’s arms. Their knees trembled from maintaining support for their upper bodies.

In that moment, in the dead of night, Kabane felt lost in his own world; a world where they were perhaps already bound by marriage, where they meld into one; a world where nothing in life matters anymore. Everything could be in complete shambles, with no one left standing, not even Konoe, and Kabane’s smile would continue to glow, walking hand in hand with Kuon.

Though, instantly cutting off from his world, Kabane felt himself tumbling forward, landing onto the body of the redhead in front of him.

Their lips were far from apart, getting messier from the heat, wrists pinned to the floor of the balcony as their dance got fervid.

It was all Kabane wanted to do, to feel the heat and passion with Kuon once again, one that he had felt hundreds of years ago; one he had missed so dearly.

However, to his misfortune, the minute had been sinfully cut short, as Kuon pushed Kabane’s lips away from him with a sheepish grin.

“Let’s take this further... another time...” He stated breathlessly. With flushed cheeks, Kabane had no choice but to agree.

Kuon squirmed out of Kabane’s grasp, shifting himself to lean against the balcony railing. He craned his head upwards, smiling at the navy blue and purple hue of the night sky.

“Kabane, you’ve made me the happiest.”

Kabane looked towards the redhead, cheeks still tainted red from minutes before.

“So let’s continue our immortality with happiness as well, alright?”

Seriously, were Kuon’s words ever so endearing? The last time he heard of something like that was almost a thousand years ago.

Something along the lines of, ‘You’ve taught me how to be happy, Kabane, because you showed me a new world.’

How silly, yet so cute.

Kabane placed his hand on the redhead’s shoulder, pulling him just a few centimetres in to rest his forehead against Kuon’s. His following smile spoke of kindness, and for the first time in forever, a light of hope and genuine happiness, to have been a hero once again.

A hero for not just their love to be reunited, but a hero for his long life of grief and pain being washed away.

As Kabane grasped Kuon’s hand, heaving each other off the ground to return to their home, he could feel a string of beads in his pocket, all the same as before, when Konoe handed it to him.

He looked down at the moving ground as they walked hand in hand, kept at a relatively long distance regardless.

Taking multiple deep breaths and exhales, he clutched the necklace within his pocket, fully aware that nothing too serious can be done in such a short time just yet.

He will return it another time. They have many, many years to come, after all. No due dates, nor pressure from the world.

Konoe greeted the new couple from the kitchen, waving with a bright grin, relieved of tensions resolving at the end.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” He chirped, chopping away with the organic ingredients.

In all honesty, Kabane still never understood what the point of eating was. They were immortal, after all, and in the list of deaths, malnutrition was written.

Though, seeing the joyous expressions of Konoe and even Kuon enjoying their meal, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat, gazing over the two boys that had been by his side since a thousand years ago. Somewhat bittersweet and endearing, Kabane couldn’t deny his feelings.

Minutes later, his hand felt cold, much to his denial.

Kabane and Kuon still sat the furthest from each other, averted their eyes away to focus on their own meals, and left without a word. The redhead began to smile more, but that was about the only change later that night.

With heavy sighs, the ex-king ignored their distance. He walked back to his room silently after finishing his meal, carefully closing the door to not make a sound.

To think the pair were locking lips like centuries ago just earlier, to returning back to ignorance, he had to admit, Kabane was slightly distraught by it.

His eyes trailed towards the journal once again, with the last few pages still yet to be filled, blank and clean. Kabane stroked the rough edges of the paper, soft and frayed, until the sound of a door creaking open presented itself.

Kabane perked his attention towards the door, swiftly hiding the notebook within the nightstand’s drawer as he noticed the figure of a certain redhead making his way closer to the bed.

The other boy allowed himself to take a seat next to Kabane, smiling at the latter, the same distinct smile of joy and relief.

Kabane stared at Kuon, already dressed in a cotton black nightgown. He figured the redhead wanted to sleep, but did he really intend to sleep here, of all places?

It was as if Kuon was unable to speak, as he slowly crept his hand into the older man’s, dropping all of his weight onto Kabane’s chest, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Just what was with Kuon’s behaviour?! Kabane couldn’t think for a second on how he should react, much less over Kuon’s sudden affection.

He tensed for about a second, before submitting himself into diligently wrapping his arms around Kuon’s smaller body. A bit cold to the touch, but frail and soft as it ever was centuries ago. The beating of Kabane’s heart didn’t help either, pulling the redhead closer to the warmth of his body from the overwhelming touch.

They stayed like such for a while, unaware of anything around them. The clock on the wall continued to tick, a bird or a fly zipped past the window, but they were too immersed in the embrace to truly know. The clicking from the door came from Konoe shutting every light off, getting ready for the night that fell long ago.

Not a word has exchanged as the night grew to dawn, uncomfortably tangled together as they slept in silence. The next morning was no different, wordless, yet so full of gazes that can’t part. They still don’t notice the clock ticking, or the occasional beetles zipping past, nor do they notice the yell of Konoe beckoning the couple for breakfast and morning chores.

Smiles exchanged frequently, growing more genuine by the minute. Kuon slowly lacked grief in his eyes, while Kabane mustered up confident smiles successfully.

As the promise of a wedded soulmate, Kabane lived as a hero he once used to be.

Although history would repeat, outbursts and blood spewed, repressed regret and rage winding together with his love, Kabane, as a hero of many eternal, excruciating years to come, continued an eternal life but all new and relieved. For the chatters of Konoe still cherished, and for a certain redhead who clung beside him for as long as he desired.

**Author's Note:**

> is danmaca still relevant? doesn't matter! kabakuo emotionally RUINED ME  
> this was my first successful AU fanfic of ioriku! hope you all enjoyed hehe~
> 
> hmu on twitter @sareinya_ to cry over ioriku with :3


End file.
